


On The Loose

by AirDrawnDagger



Category: X-Men Evolution
Genre: Discovery, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-08-26 07:10:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16676980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AirDrawnDagger/pseuds/AirDrawnDagger
Summary: One night of fun can lead to a drastic change. But when Rogue's least favorite person helps her by placing his life on the table, things can change for the better.





	1. Chapter 1

The mansion was eerily quiet for a Friday night in the mind of Remy Lebeau, who steadily paced himself through the hallways looking for one person in particular; that certain woman who made his stomach do flips and his knees buckle: Rogue. He had an idea for something to do but needed a partner in crime to tag along to do it.

He couldn't get over the fact that Rogue accepted his invitation a few days prior, not to a date, but more like friends enjoying a night on the town. What he remembered most was her 'Ah promise' line. It was unlike her to promise anything with him alongside of not being so indifferent toward him causing a flame of hope to kindle within. She was one-of-a-kind and he wasn't going to lose her.

Remy reached the door to her room giving his signature knock, not recieving any acknowledgment during the anxious seconds he waited through. Nothing. How obvious, he thought, waiting several seconds before knocking again, "Rogue? Y' in dere?" His ear pressed against the door for any sudden noises. Again, nothing. He pulled out his phone and called hoping her ringtone would give her away. His ear went to the door for the next few dial tones studying the silence on the other side. Her voicemail ended the call tones causing him to hang up. "Where de hell can y' be...?"

He set foot to the entertainment room where he spotted a lone figure lounging across the beat up leather couch with a blanket atop her legs watching the local news. Her arms were crossed as she rested on her side with the sleeves of her red t-shirt riding high on her shoulders, fully exposing her bare arms. She seemed to be sound asleep from vantage point but couldn't tell for certain. The few times he watched her sleep were priceless; Rogue completely defenseless.

There was one way to be sure if she was really out cold, which happened to be one of his favorite past times: ruffle her feathers. Stealth was key when sneaking up on Rogue because of her well trained senses. Defensive tactics were her specialty and he was well aware of her combat credentials. Remy's steps were flawless as he stood directly behind her leaning down to her ear before being startled by Rogue's deadpan voice, "Don't even think about it, cajun."

"Merde. Y' got me."

"Tryin' to be cute or somethin'? 'Cause it ain't workin'," Rogue sat up hastily covering her mouth as the yawn in the back of her throat made its escape, stretching her arms high in the air to relieve the tension in her stagnant muscles.

His frame was straight as an arrow with a smug look attached to his face, "I don' have t' try."

Rogue couldn't help but joke giving him a wave-off, "Ok. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Don' sleep," a bounce from his eyebrow was nothing less suggestive, throwing his 'extracarricular activities' in her face with the same smug look, eyes like slits.

Rogue stared at him with a blank expression, "Well you do now."

"Touche. Got me again," Remy smiled his charm placing his hand on his chest as if it was a critical wound.

"Just so we can be clear on this, Remy, Ah don't fall victim to you're vulgarity and boasting about the bed post you widdled away from too many notches. Good luck getting mine," Rogue took her attention from the Cajun to the bleak news on the television in regards to the 'mutant problem'.

Remy knew to leave her with the last word of their banter and enjoyed the time it lasted. Small talk wasn't a strong characteristic in Rogue's presence as he could never find the right words to drive her up the nearest wal but he always had a staring problem. His eyes studied the rounded features of her face by the flashes of color the television flashed as she continued to watch the news.

"What you doin' sleepin' on a Friday night, Chere? Unorthodox even for you."

"Ah wasn't sleepin', Swamp Rat. It's been a really long day and, honestly, Ah really don't feel like doing much of anything," Rogue answered emotionless.

His smile was beautiful but she never let it get to her head, "You need to get out a little, ma douceur. Do us both some good to get out of here. I can tell de boy scout's been givin' y' problems in de Danger Room so let's have some fun for once and let loose."

"Ah'm not really in the mood to drink tonight, Sugah. Maybe you should get Pete to join ya instead."

"I dunno 'bout dat," he leaned his hip against the couch folding his arms across his chest. "I t'ink I would rather get to know you a little better than de girl who hates my guts. In case y' forgot, y' promised me a night on de town, remember? Don' want me to belive y' word is complete crap, do ya?" He questioned hiding his eyes beneath the locks of his lengthy hair.

She knew his persistance wouldn't fade in the slightest and glared at him with one pointer finger in his face and a firm voice, "Fahne but no funny business. Got it?"

"Of course, Rogue," his hands wents into his jean pockets. "Hands to myself."

Rogue slung the blanket across her shoulder as she got up from the sofa, "Alright. Just hold your horses and Ah'll be right out. Oh and by the way, you're buyin'." With a wink she headed down the hallway to the closest flight of stairs, leaving him with something to think about.

O.o

The table for two was more like a table for one, covered in shot glasses forming a pyrimid. Rogue couldn't believe she was acually having a good time with the one person she never would've considered to be a friend six months ago. For once she saw him in a whole new light, assisted by the colored lights in the bar mixed with the alcohol and cigarettes.

Her eyes were glued to him while trying to figure out the things that make this man 'Remy Lebeau'.

"Down for a game of pool?" Her eyes drooped a little due to the alcohol as she looked into the bright crimson. 

"Only if y' feel like losing, Cherie," Remy's boots graced the black sticky floor with the sounds of peanut shells littered around the bar stool. "Be right back."

Rogue watched the man head off in the direction of the bar as she slid her middle finger on the rim of an empty shot glass and half-ass lipped the words to the song 'Money For Nothing' obnoxiously blaring over the expensive sound system. He was so casual with everthing he did, even the way he passed his ID and the ball rental fee to the blonde bartender who looked like she wanted what she saw. Rogue studied how Remy worked his game; things to expect. And of course, he was a pro.

He walked to a table setting the pool balls on the blue felt tabletop, grabbing the triangle that hung from the Budweiser table light. He beckoned with a jerk of his neck in his direction and a soft smile illuminated in sex appeal. 

Rogue felt her equilibrium float from side to side as she tried walking the short distance from her previous location to where Remy stood. "One shot too many," she muttered to herself, trying not to hold onto the nearest surface for support. 

"Dis gon' be easy," Remy bagan the friendly crap-talk when she stumbled next to him at the stick-rack.

"Shut it, Cajun. Talk shit and get your ass whipped. By a girl."

Remy laughed at her friendly, yet threatening humor while he rolled two pool sticks across the table looking for a warps in the wood. He was enjoying everything about her on this rare night blended between laughter and liquor finally witnessing another side of Rogue he desperately searched for. 

He handed her the better of the two with another soft smile along with the blue chalk. Taking his, he went to the wall for the baby powder for his clammy hands, "You breakin'?"

Rogue made a nasaly 'hell no' sound at his question before blowing the excess chalk from the tip, "Ah think not. Gotta habit of scratchin'..."

"Suit y'self," Remy made his round about the table debating on how to break the set, imbedding intimidation within his movements. 

The break was flawless as the solids and stripes mixed pocketing the five, gaining the solids for himself. Another shot was made with little effort allowing him to take his third. One by one the solids faded from the table with Remy taking the lead into victory with only the three left before he got his chance with the eight-ball. As he bent down to take out his red three, he could tell from the corner of his eye Rogue wasn't too thrilled about not standing a chance against him. Remy smiled to himself as he took aim for one of hers, "Y' grew soft, Lebeau." The green fourteen shot straight his left corner pocket, "Rats. Your turn, Chere."

She glared at his smug expression he can never seem to get rid of, "You did that on purpose."

He shrugged, "You'll get over it. Now, show me up like you think y' can."

"Gladly," Rogue observed the multiple shots she could make but wanted to take the easiest for a warm up. The ten was in her sights shooting it into the side pocket. To her right was the twelve directly center to the pocket. She bent down taking aim once more, looking straight down the pool stick. Without checking her surroundings, she reared the stick back far enough to hit the stranger behind her, grazing the mans forearm against her skin causing him to blackout, beer shattering on the floor before the mans knees gave out dropping onto the beer soaked floor.

Remy's attention immediately went to her after the sound of glass and multiple deep voices yelling a few feet away, "Shit! Rogue!" He went to her as one of the men pushed her away making her to lose balance. Remy caught her from behind before ending up on the floor like the unconcious man. The liquor in her blood stream was still strong giving her lack of judgement, wrenching herself from Remy's strong grip to get to the man who assalted her. With her poisonous skin contained when needed, she lunged at the large man successfully shoving him onto the table behind him. Hands on his throat crushed his windpipe. A second man with a very pissed look stood from beside his unconcious friend. Remy hurried the few feet it took in hopes of diffusing the situation. Diffusing Rogue was another story...

"Better save your girl, mutie," the second man charged at Remy with a fist in order to deal his damage. Remy's left caught the punch giving the man's knuckles a firm squeeze bending his wrist back. The mans holler of pain struck the attention of the others in the bar. Remy foot swept him to the ground next to his friend where he should've been to begin with. 

Before Remy could locate Rogue another one of their friends took him from behind, getting him into a rear naked choke hold. His hands went to the man's forearm hoping his strength was enough to break the hold. This man was strong, maybe stronger than Remy himself in strength but there was no luck in winning against the Cajun. Remy pulled down on his forearm once more for support of his upper body. Before the man knew what was in store for him, Remy's head began to bash the face of his attacker allowing himself to break free.

"Rogue!" Remy's voice boomed over the screams from the women in the bar causing her head to snap in his direction. He sped over, pulling her into an embrace, "We gotta go, Rogue! Shit's 'bout t' hit de fan!"

A plethora of people stood around the scene as Remy charged them both through the crowd to the back exit. The door slammed as they made their leave with the sounds of sirens in multiple directions, giving Remy's heart a leap in rhythm. He looked down at a crying Rogue and right then he knew, they were in store for a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

Remy was glad to be a child of the night. Mastery of agility and stealth made running from the officials an easy task though the margin for error was vast holding an emebriated Rogue at his side. He spotted his bike after the few blocks they trekked, feeling the adrenaline spread through his limbs and heart race with satisfaction. His hand went to the back of her head, giving a kiss on top. He made sure their eyes made full contact before speaking, "Be right back, love."

A soft smile dusted her lips as she watched him smoothly mount the bike in the distace. The moment the bike started was the moment he put it in gear, caring less about oil circulation or warming up.

He rolled up quickly where she perched and beckoned for her to sit on the seat between his legs. He understood she was exhausted from the traumatic event and needed all the physical support that was possible for the time being.

He took the long way home, bathing in the shadows all while zipping through the suburban streets of Bayville. Light became a rarity though it was unavoidable as it shined like meteors off the metallic black gas tank. Like the flick of a switch, Rogue yelled for him to stop the bike noticing a landmark indicating the short distance they had before reaching the mansion. The moment she felt the bike come to a halt she tore herself away from Remy, hands on both knees leaning over in the middle of the street. He knew she could drink heavily and when she did, it usually came back up. Remy initiated the kickstand and turned the front wheel in with the lean before consoling Rogue. His warm hand went to her cotton covered back making small circles of comfort.

He wanted to know what happened in order for women to shriek and scream the way they did. Horrific sounds. There was no way in hell he could keep his eye on her during the brawl, having his own hands full. She was a one woman arsenal who was capable of dealing lots of damage in a short amount of time.

He sat her down on the closest curb the moment she lost her balance, "Easy dere. Collect y' self fo' a moment." He was stressing badly. Bad enough to kill it with a cigarette. His hand went to his front jeans pocket finding it full of miscellaneous change but no cigs. The other hand found nothing in the opposite pocket as well. Shit, he thought, left dem in de bar.

Questions raced through his mind looking down the road toward the mansion and couldn't help but let one slip, the most obvious and most though of. He knelt down beside her placing a hand on her shoulder, "What happened, Chere?"

The question immediately formed tears in her eyes and caused a severe case of nausea. She couldn't speak without vomit nipping at her reflexes, shaking her head no instead.

"I just want t' know if dis is worth runnin' from de police. We could be out in de mornin' instead of gettin' elbow deep in shi-"

"Ah killed him, dammit! Ah sucked the life from him!" Rogue was delerious from the alcohol and the psyches in her head handling the new addition of Jonn Reis.

Remy had no words to say as he felt the air escape his lungs. The gravity of the situation fell on Remy's shoulders like a ton of bricks by Rogue's testimony. He couldn't picture Rogue a killer ususally being all bark and no bite but now that it actually said and done, he had no idea how to picture her now. He refused to think it was her doing all the work, believing it had something to do with the psyches. Something snapped and he was going to do everything in his power to find out why. That type of aggression ran in someone like Wolverine, not Rogue. It terrified him with the thought of being 'an accessory' in that man's murder and sure as hell didn't want to see anything happen to his friend. He had a plan but needed to run it by Rogue first...

O.o

How they were able to dodge the law the entire way back to the institute was beyond him. The gates were a sight for sore eyes with elation filling Remy's chest, forming high hopes in his mind.

He could feel the weight of her head resting on his chest and the weight of her muscular tone. There was nothing he wanted to do more than touch her as she leaned against him only because she had to, but to Remy, it felt right. He wanted to be the one who held her at night and talked about future plans. He wanted to be her everything, the way he considered her to be. And he was going to protect his everything.

His hand went to the clutch, leaving the bike in first as he pulled up to the gate's entrance. The beeps to all four digits he punched in was like a melody to his ears causing the gates mechanics to to the rest of the work, "Almos' dere."

He gave the bike the perfect amount of clutch to throttle putting the bike back into first. Gravel popped beneath the tires as Remy kept his pace a slow one.

The closer they got to the mansion, the more his stomach did flips. The engine died in neutral allowing them to roll to a stop. The Harley was parked next to Rogue's truck, helping her unmount before he did the same. Remy gazed at the full moon as he collected the words he needed to speak, "I need to talk to you, Rogue. I's kinda important..."

"What is it?" Rogue couldn't help the curiosity from forming by Remy's statement.

Remy ended his minor stare-down with the moon before speaking up mixing his words with the seriousness she never knew he harnessed, "We need t' jet out of 'ere. Jus' long enough fo' t'ings in Bayville t' calm down. D'ose guys know we're mutants and dis place is wearin' a flippin' target! It would kill me if somet'ing hap-"

She turned her head enough to catch sight of him and placed her pointer on Remy's lips, politely cutting his sentence off, completely understanding how serious something like murder was especially when the mutant does the crime. Running was their only option for survival and Rogue wasn't going to argue the ultimatum, "We're takin' mah truck."

Remy shined a 'how-am-I-not-surprised' look but also realized it was the logical of choice, "Of course." Remy's eyes wandered across the house for bedroom lights, looking for the best area to sneak in through. It wasn't decided until he could get a look from the back. "I'm not sneakin' y' in de house 'cause y' still too drunk, Cherie. Gotta go in fo' some t'ings. Anyt'ing in particular y' need?"

"Jus' mah clothes really," Rogue answered with a shrug in tow.

He understood offering a nod before swinging a leg off the side to unmount. He took her hand to support the woman, allowing her to steady her pace. She released his strong grip and dragged her worn boots across the gravel.

Remy took hold of the passenger door handle pressing the old silver button with ease, hinges squealing from age as he pulled the steel door towards himself, "Chariot awaits, m' lady." He held it open enough for her to slip onto the benchseat.

The moment her back hit the cushion her head fell back onto the head rest, eyes closed. The best thing for Rogue, in Remy's opinion, was to let her sleep off the liquor until they found a place to rest on the way to wherever it was Remy felt suited. The door shut softly as he watched her drift off to sleep through the glass window.

O.o

First thing on the list were the keys to the truck and, lucky him, they were in plain sight. Remy found Rogue's old high school checker board backpack on the reverse side of her closet door spotting the large amount of shirts hanging from hangers. There were too many to choose from but yanked the ones he knew were the most worn along with her old pair of Converse she religiously wore, tossing them into the bag.

He overlooked her room and saw her favorite jeans, more like his favorite jeans on her, in a chair beside her bed. "Where de hell is de make up kit? She gon' kill me if I don' get it," his whispers were frustrated, feeling time pressed against him.

Hurried steps took him to her bathroom there he found her big black box of things he knew nothing of but knew it was the grail of his findings. Her toiletries were stuffed into the front pocket, giving room in the main section for his favorite part, her undies.

The drawers were wrenched open one at a time finding a few more pairs of jeans until the right one overwhelmed him by the colors he never would've imagined her wearing, "And bingo was his name-o." The victory was short lived, taking a hand-full of underwear and several rolls of socks. "Not'ing I would've imagined... Mon Dieu," he spoke to himself in excitement as he zipped the backpack and loosened the straps for his much broader physique before throwing it over his shoulder.

He was like a thief in the night making it to his own for essentially the same things. The door was silent as he slowly pushed his way through the entrance. The image inducer on Kurt's bedside table was golden in his eyes and wasn't going to let this be any different than any other heists in the past. Remy's fingers nimbly took the sides of the wristband, lifting it off the table and into his possesion. Success.

His exit was flawless as ever leaping to the grass below from the second floor. The extra weight from their belongings was nothing to compromise his strength, gaining stamina a few seconds after his feet met the grass. Remy did a three-sixty by checking his surroundings, ensuring he hadn't been spotted by any of the large amount of students he encountered on a day-to-da basis. The gate he entered was a few feet away and so was the truck containing an incapacitated Rogue.

With hardly any metal-to-metal contact, the gate closed behind Remy. He pulled the keys out of his front pocket, looking for the GM ignition key in the bright moonlight, sifting through the abundance of keys on her ring, "Damn, girl, what de hell are all dese fo'?"

The squared key was found a few moments after he began his search, reaching for the aged driver door handle. It sqeaked briefly until the door was fully open, shrugging off the bags to the ground below his feet. He sat the black box on the seat beside Rogue then set her back pack on the floorboard followed by his own. His hand looked for a lever of some sorts to push the seat back to work with the length of his long legs. Much to his dismay, Rogue's truck sat lower to the ground than what he was used to driving in the past, successfully bumping his head on the door frame while trying to duck low enough to enter.

The starter of the old truck turned before the engine cranked, immediatly starting fire to the working components. The strings in his heart made him look back to the only home he felt welcome at. Remy's hand gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, holding back the shame and regret it took to turn his back on the X-Men after everything they did to turn his life around. In time, they would forgive them both for their negligence and understand the reasons behind their rash decisions. Without a second more to spare, his hand grabbed the shifter on the column pulling it down to drive, feeling the small jerk of the transmission as it went into first, driving straight to the gate ahead.

The moment the iron gates let them into the world beyond the school, his gaze went to Rogue's sleeping form who rested most of her weight against the door frame, wondering about the open road ahead and what tomorrow had in store for them. His hand went to the volume dial of the ancient radio clicking it to the right allowing the low volume to expell from the speakers. The melody was unfamilliar to him but recognized its country rythm and the acoustic guitars, giving him the notion to travel south or southwest. But where? Texas was out of the question and he sure as hell wasn't living in Kansas.

Remy thought of Xavier's unexpected absence and Jean's team of X-Men in outer space dealing with the Shi'ar Empire from global domination, therefore, Cerebro was useless in hopes of the X-Men finding them. The mere thought painted a smile on his face.

Continuous flow of lights traveled up the cowl induction hood somewhat soothing Remy's internal debate wishing Rogue was awake to lend a much needed opinion. Without paying full attention, a passing street sign clicked something inside, assuring himself it would be the most unlikely of places for the X-Men to search. Now all he needed was the interstate.


	3. Chapter 3

The sound of a window unit and a pounding migraine stirred Rogue from her unpleasant dreams of suffocation and pure terror, jolting from the sheets. Anxiety filled the pit of her stomach not having a single clue as to where she was. She couldn't see much due to the absence of light and a set of thick curtains blocking her view from figuring out which side of the coin the day fell on. 

It didn't take a genius to figure she was in a motel room. The air had a musky odor of old architecture and the sheets scratched across her bare skin. 

She no recollection of leaving the institute the night before but remembered the events prior as if it where burned into her memory, constantly on repeat. The main subject was taking that man's life and her hands being the death blow. She vaguely remembered Remy and his plan to ditch the school but the thought of the cajun brought minor relief to the anxiety. He was there where no one else could be. 

Reaching out into solid nothing, her hand missed the first few tries she reached to touch the lamp but eventually grasped something, a chain, pulling on it for much needed light. She squinted against the light of the dim lamp, headache still toying with her senses.

A shakey hand wrenched the worn blanket to the side as she lethargically rose herself from the stabbing springs of the excuse called a mattress and slowly paced herself toward the window. She inched it open not wanting to blind herself in the process. Squinting as she peered out the glass, her burgundy truck was parked directly in front of the room. Turning around with the curtain still open, she noticed Remy dead asleep in a seperate bed with his bare back facing her.

The backpack she was all too familiar with rested on the floor in front of the nightstand, looking as if it were to bust at the seams with whatever it contained. To her surprise, her black box sat next to it. 'He knows meh a lil' too well,' she thought as she went for the stuffed bag. The double zippers on top were pulled apart from one another as the bag's opening widened with the colors of her unimaginables showing through.

She wore embarrassment as if it were in style, staring at the undergarments before her. There was no way in frosty hell she wanted Remy to know more about her than what he already did but this was horrifying. Who knew what he was imagining at this point now that he caught a glimpse of the unknown. Rogue felt she was a modest woman in her own respect and that was how it was going to remain.

Rogue tipped the bag upside down in desperation to change from last night's attire, shaking the stubborn clothing out. She was elated to see one of her favorite shirts in the cotton pile, putting that one to the side and her heavily faded bootcut jeans. The front pocket was unzipped. An exposed toothbrush and toothpaste were the last things she expected to see but thanked Remy in her thoughts as she yanked them from the pocket, anticipating on removing the unwanted taste from her mouth.

To get her morning on the road, she disappeared to the restroom instantly starting the shower water as the door closed behind her.

O.o

The steam from the shower billowed through the doorway once the door opened, exiting an annoyed Rogue entranced by her own thoughts. Her hands controlled the towel, soaking it with her slow drying hair. The enhanced brightness in the room pulled her away from what occupied her mind to see Remy smoking his first cigarette of the day, door wide open as he leaned against the frame.

"Did Ah wake you up?" Rogue stopped messing with her hair momentarily.

He shook his head no, expelling the smoke before speaking, "Non. Been up fo' a while. Too much on my mind."

"Tell meh about it," Rogue muttered under her breath.

Remy's eyes were on Rogue as he took another drag, watching her stride toward her pile of clothes sifting for something, "Y' doin' ok, Chere?"

"About as good as Ah'll get... First time washing mah hair with a urine sample sized bottle of shampoo. It smells great tho," Rogue let out a small laugh grabbing a pair of socks she knew she saw.

He didn't particularly care to bring up last night when she was in a relatively laughing mood. It wasn't his place to stir the pot, respecting her enough to leave the subject alone.

"Where are we anyways?" She sat on the mattress, bringing up one of her feet to cover it with a sock along with the other. A part of her cared not to know but the other part wanted to know how far they'd gotten.

The butt of the cigarette was between the nail of his middle finger and thumb, flicking it into an empty parking space next to the truck, "Knoxville. Straight down de I-80. Jus' stoppin' fo' de night so don' get comfy. We still have a lot of road ahead of us."

Rogue's expression was stunned with the realization of how far they traveled in one night, maintaining a positive outlook, "Never been to Tennessee before... Kinda cool actually. At least Ah get to see the sights along the way. So... Where is it that we're goin' to, Remy?"

"Nowhere special. It's country land and I couldn't t'ink of anywhere t' go," he shut the front door lightly then walked back to his bed for his own travel bag. "Gotta get goin' soon. We have about anot'er ten hours of drivin' but I definately want somet'in' t' eat befo' we hit de interstate."

O.o

Remy's time in the shower was time she had for herself. She searched her truck's ashtray which was converted into a coin holder for a handful of silver change for the pay phone down the strip of motel rooms. Her only intention was to assure someone in that house that Remy didn't pull one of his stunts again and fill them in on bits and pieces of her carnage.

The black phone handle was lifted from the cradle, inserting two quaters then dialed a number she would never forget: Kitty's. The phone rang off the hook figuring she wasn't answering an unknown number's call. She hung up with two fingers and a case of irritation, making the machine pop out the fifty cents to try again. And again she did.

Rogue was growing more and more irritated with every passing call tone as Kitty's habit of not answering. The girl always had her phone attatched to her hand but the one time she needed to talk to the girl... Poof! She's not there. At this point she knew reaching the woman's voicemail was her best bet, mentally piecing together the message as the last call tone passed and the voicemail took over.

"Hey, Kit, it's Rogue. Sorry Ah missed you. Lettin' you know Ah'm alright and so is Remy. Don't worry about us, ok? Jus' took an impromptu road trip. We'll be alright and Ah'll call you sometime soon. Later, chick. Love you," the black handle went back to its resting place before turning back to the room. She held onto the phone as it rested in it's original spot, drifting her head forward to rest on the silver face of the pay phone. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, attempting to fight them off.

Forcefully being disbanded from her friend tore at her heartstrings. Kitty was her best friend and someone she could always confide in when things got messy, like now. Remy wasn't even close to someone on her emotional level or better yet someone to trust when it came down to personal issues, afraid he wouldn't understand or want to undertand.

O.o

The diner along the interstate was qaint and wholesome with a fifties vibe born from the golden music playing from the speakers of the jukebox. She was excited to be in the state where the music she grew up with took shape. Too bad Remy didn't have intentions of staying here...

He was quiet for a majority of the morning finally speaking without being spoke to, cutting the silence with small talk, "Y' truck is fun t' drive, by de way. "

Rogue finished sipping the Dr. Pepper through her straw, giving input to his statement, "Reason I bought it. That and it's a sexy ride."

"I's a '69, right?" Remy guessed, not having much skill for identifying classic American-made vehicles.

"Close but no. It's a '68. It's when they rounded the body style instead of looking lahk a box. If anything, Ah would've rather got a '59... They're just tougher to come by."

Rogue's words drifted as she watched a waitress walk closer with two plates in her hands hoping to high heavens it was theirs. Nope. "You never told meh where it was you plan on takin' us."

Remy's Ruby eyes were on hers, holding a sense of playfulness behind them, "You really wanna know?"

"Duh, dorkus, or am Ah gonna have to get it outta you mahself?" Rogue arched her brow challenging his demeanor with her own. "'Cause Ah will."

"Chere, I already told ya i's nowhere special..."

Rogue quickly reached for his hand to get the answers herself but he was too agile even for her, pulling it away before she got him, "Dammit, Remy! Why's it so important you cain't tell meh?"

"Not'ing. Jus' bein' difficult," Remy couldn't contain a smile seeing Rogue get worked up over nothing. He had his reasons for not telling her but decided not to piss off the girl with the truck. "It's Oklahoma. As i said, nowhere special."

"Oklahoma? Where the buffalo roam? Talk about desolate," Rogue got her answer.

"I didn't know where t' go, and honestly, who's lookin' for us down dere?" Remy waited for some kind of half-ass answer from Rogue but the silence spoke for itself. "Exactly."

"Guess it's decided then," Rogue kept her words positive with Remy's decision before taking another sip from her dark soda, shining a smile with her dark green eyes. "Cain't wait to see you in the country, swamp rat."


End file.
